The One of Two Lives
by Atalantide
Summary: Sucked into another world by a mysterious power, Max finds herself carrier of two conflicting memories. Will she be able to concentrate on her mission of aiding the Shur'tugul long enough to find herself back home? And by the time her journey, including apprenticing to a wild herboligist, kicking two twins asses and stabbing a dragon up the balls, is over, will she want to go back?
1. Prologue: Capture of the Century

**AN: **This is my first Inheritance story, though I have done MR ones before. Mainly, this will focus on Max though I may end up doing a sequel where the rest of flock gets involved. I am not sure if Max will become a Dragon Rider, and if she does it will only be near the middle/end - not the start. I'm also not sure whose gonna be paired with whom, you guys chose. Oh, and I'm aware that some of the descriptions come from the book in this prologue - don't worry, this won't happen again. I tried to make it slightly different.

**Disclaimer for whole story: **This all owns to CP and JP, if you read anything you recognize it belongs to them etc.

Also, I'm English, just to say... So sorry to all you Americans/Other Nationalities if the spelling seems weird at all...

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**The One with Two Lives**

**Prologue: Capture of the Century**

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Three white horses cantered towards the towering pine trees, their heads held high and proud, their coats rippling like silver in the moonlight. Their three riders sat elegantly on. On the first horse was an elf with pointed ears and elegantly slanted eyebrows. His build was slim yet strong. A powerful bow stretched across his back, a quiver of arrows tipped with swan feathers accompanying it. A sword pressed against his left side, slightly unsheathed. The last rider had the same fair face and angled features of the other. In his right hand lay poised a long spear, and sheathed in his belt was a white dagger. On his head rested a helm of extraordinary craftsmanship, a master blend of amber and gold. Between those two rode an elven lady, who surveyed her surroundings cautiously with a driving force from her deep eyes. Black locks framed her majestic face, and though her clothes were unadorned, her beauty was undiminished. At her side was a sword, and on her back a bow and quiver. She carried in her lap a pouch that she frequently looked at, as if to reassure herself that it was still there.

The wind howled through the trees, and the horses skittered nervously. They shook their heads, as if trying to free it from some unknown spell, before, with one other gust of wind, they reared as one, turned and galloped in the opposite direction. A harsh shout of anger reached the elven princesses ears, and she leaned forward on her ride, urging it forward. She sucked in a breath as the word "Fire!" bellowed out of the lips of the angered man. Black tipped arrows rained down on her companions. They cut through the wards of both Faölin and Glenwing and she had to dive to the floor to avoid one herself. In terror, she found herself the only one remaining in the land of the living. A cry broke through her lips as she surveyed their horses, their legs at an unnatural angle, and, with a fresh wave of pain, her two companions. Turning, she saw the Urgals advancing, and, with one last look behind, she sprinted into the forest. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, muscular man with blood red hair which matched his eyes. An inaudible gasp shook out of her, and she redoubled her sprinting speed.

Weaving through the trees, her legs a blur, she found herself trapped in a clearing. Red fire roared around its edges, and all attempts using her magic to quell them were futile. Sighing, she turned and drew her sword. Ten Urgals were trapped in the clearing with her, and with hard eyes and fluent, quick move she dispatched all of them – only to find the man with blood red hair stepping through the fire, it caressing his legs lovingly. He smirked at the elven princesses, and her eyes grew wide in fear. Unbuckling the pouch from her belt, she undid the knot. Slipping her fingers inside the leather, she withdrew a large stone, which she held above her head. Her lips blurred together as she mumbled a lost language to the winds, and the man gave a cry of outrage as the stone flashed bright, its blue sparkling in the moonlight, before shimmering out of view. The elf sagged perceptibly, and with a shriek of anger, the man threw his hand-and-a-half sword straight at her. It cut through her midsection, and, her arms still above her head, she fainted. Her vision blurred, before a voice pushed its way through the blur of her alien mind.

_Trust the one of two lives._

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**AN: **Yes, the last line is where I got my title from. Ah well. Hope you enjoy. And its not very long because it's the prologue - other chapters will be longer (around 2k).


	2. Chapter 1: The Egg

**AN: **First proper chapter. This too is quite short, but I thought it was a good place to end it. Enjoy!

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**The One of Two Lives**

**Chapter 1: The Egg**

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Max looked nervously around the dreary path. It was seemingly the middle of autumn, and as a result, very damp and foggy. She had landed here, on her butt, two days ago, only to be found very quickly by a strong, muscular young man who had asked if she was looking for Eragon. Bewildered, she had nodded, and he had motioned for her to go into the forest, saying that Eragon had told him to tell her that he had gone down the usual path. Apparently, this Eragon guy had only been gone for half a day, so she would be able to catch up with him. If she wanted to. To get the guy off her tail, she had nodded assuredly, before jogging into the outskirts of the forest. Ten meters in, she had collapsed, gripping her head as a fresh wave of agony washed over her, and with alarm, she remembered.

Her name was Maximum Ride. She had been born in Carvahall, to a woman by the name of Sophia. She didn't know her father, and never had - thus the last name of 'Ride'. She had one younger brother, called Uthar. Her brother was young though, and so Max had to take up the mantel of worker for the family ever since she was six. Her mother would never have gotten her hands so dirty. The man she had just met was named Roran, and he, his father Garrow, and his cousin Eragon, lived in a small farm ten miles from the main village of Carvahall. She was close friends, she remembered, with both Eragon and Roran, and often helped them with the crops in exchange for some to take back for her sweet brother and uptight mother. She was also very skilled at hunting, and had agreed to go with Eragon before the winter set in to gather as much meat from the Spine as possible. Max remembered that it was only her and Eragon who ever ventured into the gigantic forest, due to its vast quantities of horrors which befell almost everyone who stepped inside. Eragon, she remembered, was her closest friend, and had a surprising story about him too. Roran's aunt had disappeared from her brother Garrow's life for nigh on ten years, only to come back, dressed in finery and heavily pregnant, onto his and his newlywed wife's doorstep. They graciously housed her for three months, before she gave birth and rushed off, leaving baby Eragon with his aunt, uncle and cousin. Eragon never saw his mother again and frequently wondered who his father was. This was all very well. If she had only remembered that.

She also remembered another life. One of danger, and horror, and difficulties. There, the world was quite different – magic did not exist, yet science (she shuddered) did. Earth. There, she had commandeered the flock, her family. Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy and Angel. Oh how she missed them. She remembered now. She had been flying over the Grand Canyon, high up in the clouds, when a searing wave of agony collided with her relatively happy thoughts. Shocked, she had blacked out. All she remembered were her flocks panicked screams, and a guilty voice weaving through the turmoil in her head. _I'm sorry Max. You're needed elsewhere. _

Over the past two days, she had been using the more easily accessible memories of her life in Alagaesia rather than her memories from 'Earth' – wherever that may be. Those memories had told her to take this minimal track until it evened out, whereupon she would branch out on the deer track. She could see these memories were steering her right – she had seen plenty of footsteps which she realized she knew as Eragon's, as well as the occasional pile of charred wood used to create a fire. She was steadily catching him up, as the footsteps were growing fresher, and she had calculated Eragon was only about half an hour in front of her by now. Max had decided that she would try and forget her Earth memories until a later time, where she could sort through them. And with that, she pressed on.

Max had let her Carvahall memories take over, and for the past ten minutes she had been stalking Eragon. They were getting closer to a herd of deer, and she guessed Eragon to be stalking the injured one. It had settled down for the night, and Max assumed Eragon to be making his shot tonight. Luckily, she had plenty of meat for her to take back to her family after she had shot a deer earlier the day before and hung it up high in a tree so the wolves and beers could not get it. She had just continued for fun, really, and she couldn't wait to see the way Eragon reacted when she jumped him. She watched as the muscular fifteen year old crouched down in the reeds, his bowstring pulled taught up to his neck, and took aim at the injured deer. Max too had her bow out (which was on her back when she first woke up here), aimed at the deer, just in case in the rare chance that Eragon did miss. Eragon was creeping closer to the herd, his bow at the ready. She heard him draw in a last breath and-an explosion shattered the silence of the forest.

The herd bolted, and Max watched in horror as Eragon loosed an arrow at the doe, but missed by a fingers breath. Bolting forward, Max too aimed at the deer, drew her bow back, skidded to a stop, and –_twang! _The arrow pierced through the night sky, just hitting the doe in its shoulder. Racing forward, Max withdrew her knife from her belt and stabbed the injured doe before it could escape. Wiping her bloody dagger on the grass, she jogged towards Eragon who was looking, shocked, at the cause of the explosion.

The tree trunks were burnt, and the grass smoldered. Hundreds of pine needles, charred, lay jolted on the forest ground. A wisp of smoke curled into the air. And at the center of the chaos sat a polished blue stone. It was unharmed.

Max watched for danger for several long minutes, before slowly approaching Eragon and tapping his shoulder.

"What was that?" She whispered in his ear, and he jumped. "Magic?" He replied, before slowly moving towards it, the tension in his bow slowly relaxed. "Wait!" She looked at him as if he as mad. "If that was magic, then why are you going towards it? Are you an idiot?" He paused, before looking over his shoulder at her. "Look, the stone looks expensive. We could sell it and split the money when the traders come, seeing as we both found it. Thanks for shooting that deer by the way." Max smirked. "Yeh, I always knew I was better at archery then you. Here, look." And with that Max, chucked an arrow at the stone. It sailed through the winds, and with a small _chip_ the arrow knocked itself along the stone. It wobbled, and both Max and Eragon jumped back. A minute went. Two. Three. Before Max finally said, "Right. Fine. You can pick it up if you want to then." Eragon crept up to it, and he warily picked up it. Jogging over to Max, he showed her the stone.

Nature could never have polished a stone as smooth as this one. It's flawless surface was a deep blue, except for the thin veins of white that tracked across it. It was cool and smooth as silk. Oval, and about a foot long, Max felt it was both beautiful and frightening. Nodding at each other, Max nestled the stone inside her pack, whilst Eragon jogged up to the deer and silently, they started skinning it.

"So, Eragon, can we both agree then that I am far better at archery then you?" Max smiled teasingly at him, and he opened his mouth in scorn, when a sharp _crack _emanated through the clearing. It was coming from Max's pack. "Max, you must have broke it!" Eragon glared at her accusingly. Max sighed. "Eragon, think clearly. If I had dropped it, it would have cracked then, not now." She smirked at him, and tapped his head. "That does sound awfully hollow in there, Eragon. Can't say I'm surprised." He swatted her hand away playfully, before they concentrated their attentions back on the stone. Cautiously, Max reached inside her pack, and brought out the egg. It had a long crack on the outside, and they both gasped. "See, I was right Max!" Eragon looked crossly at her, but Max was just staring at the egg. Due to her 'life' in Earth, she had superior hearing to that of Eragon's – indeed, she was the 'elf' of the village, with her heightened speed, fitness, sight, smell and hearing – and she could swear she heard faint squeaks from the shell. Another _crack _ricocheted of it, and Eragon almost dropped it in fright. A large piece of the stone disappeared from the surface, and peering into the darkness, she withdrew with a gasp. "Eragon! It's not a stone, it's an egg!"

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**AN: **Review! Hope its clear what situation Max is in. :)


	3. Chapter 2: Dragon Rider

**AN: **So, I'm procrastinating from my other stories by writing another chapter of this one, even though I have no reviews, followers or favorites. :( Ah well. This is a large chapter full of boring explanations, but it had to be done. Sorry.

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**The One of Two Lives**

**Chapter 2: Dragon Rider**

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Max gasped in a mixture of excitement and terror as a blue hatchling peeked its cat-sized head out of the whole. It gave a faint squeak, before the whole egg wobbled, and then broke into many equal-sized pieces. It clambered out, and gave a look around of complete austerity. Max just stared at it in shock. It was a house-cat sized creature, a beautiful deep blue colour the same as the ston- egg – and had small spikes dotted down its head. It opened its mouth, and Max could see two rows of small but razor sharp teeth. But the most shocking and terrifying part of the creature was that it had _wings_. With a shock, Earth Max realised that she had not checked if she still had hers in Alagaesia Max's form, but shook it off and continued to inspect the creature. No, not creature – a dragon. A dragon had hatched for Eragon. This was terrible.

Max watched alarmed as Eragon stumbled towards the dragon, his eyes crossed. It seemed as if he was being controlled, and she gave a cry of alarm but stood still. She realized then, that she needed to let him do it. From Alagaesia Max's memories, she knew the Empire was a terrible place, and Earth Max _really _didn't like too-powerful Monarch's – she supposed this was because of her experience with Itex. And so, that was when she decided her life plan. She would help train Eragon in combat and reflexes, and together with the dragon they would make their way across Alagaesia to the Varden. She would have to work out where they were based, but she supposed they could only be hidden in the Beor Mountains or in Du WeldenVarden at this point – which were relatively close to each other, giving them a quite accurate direction to head in. The trouble would be convincing Eragon to follow her, but even he would have to have enough common sense to know he couldn't reveal a dragon to the people of Carvahall without the Empire coming after him, causing the villagers to be in danger. Nor could he hide a dragon, even in the Spine, if the stories of Brom were correct and they could grow to the size of large hills. The Varden it was, then. They could definitely do with the help of a Dragon and its Rider.

Max smirked as this plan of action rang in her head, both aspects of her glad she would have something challenging to do, and watched in alarm as Eragon touched the dragon with his left hand. A bright blue flash once more illuminated the forest, and when it faded, she saw Eragon had fainted and the dragon was perching on his chest. Grinning, she ran up to the skinned deer and ripped some meat of it, before tossing it to the dragon, who snatched it from the air and gulped it down. She approached the dragon and hesitantly reached out to stroke its snout. It clambered off her friends back and scrambled towards Max, who was frozen in apprehension. Kneeling down tentatively she gasped in pain as the dragon's nose touched her right arm, an ice cold burn reaching up her right arm, feeling as if her hand would burn into cinders. She looked on in awe as a silver entwined dragon blossomed up her right arm, twisting it up to her elbow. It originated from a silver ball in the middle of her right palm, and Max looked inquiringly on to the dragon.

_You are stronger then my rider. _An alien voice wandered into her mind, and she slowly knelt down onto her knees and peered into the dragons silver eyes. _My rider would have fainted. Indeed, _The dragon looked over at Eragon, sprawled onto the forest floor, _he has._

Nervously, Max pushed a tendril of thought towards where the dragon's voice originated from (Earth Max helped her with this – a similar method was used to contact Angel) _Why did you mark me when Eragon is your rider? _The dragon did not answer, and just looked on at her. _Okay then... Are you a female? And do you have a name? _The dragon growled, staring deep into Max's eyes. _Do I look like a male to you, girl? _Max snickered, before quickly shaking her head. _No, but I had to confirm it. _The dragon looked at her, pleased, before sending along the tendril of connected thoughts a displeased emotion. Max guessed this was a no; she did not have a name, before looking around the clearing and seeing that it had gotten darker. She looked scrutinizingly at the young female dragon, before nodding her head decisively. _Can you keep a secret? _

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Laughter rang out around the wood, and Max looked at the young dragon perched on her shoulder. _I think you and I are going to get on along brilliantly, wing-sister. _The dragon looked at her, and then gave what Max had quickly found out to be the dragon equivalent to laughter. It was a low grumbling in her throat, and the 15 year old had been very confused when it first happened. _I am starting to think, if all the stories you told me about my partner-of-mind-and-soul are right, it is a good thing that you will be accompanying us on our trip to the Varden. _Max sighed, teasingly shaking her head at the unconscious form of Eragon, who was draped over her shoulder. She had quickly believed the dragon to be a trustworthy person, and had spent the last five hours explaining her quite limited knowledge of the Empire and the Vardens skirmishes. She had guessed, quite accurately, that the dragon's egg had once been in the possession of the Empire, and that the Varden had probably stolen it. She had told the dragon that she had guessed the Varden had accidentally sent it here by a fault in the magic, which seemed quite fool hardy to her, but there you go, and after the current situation was explained to the dragon, she had told her of her plan. The dragon had agreed with all Max had to say, and did not hold any animosity towards Max for her slight manipulation of Eragon. Still, she had been cautious about the Varden, and wondered if the definite sprawl of underhanded comments, plans and politics would not catch both her and Eragon off guard. Max, however, had assured her that she could cope with it, and when the dragon had asked her how she had grudgingly explained both her memories and showed the dragon her wings. And that was another thing – she had discovered her wings could be drawn into her back when she wanted them too, which was really handy, meaning they would never mean to be found out unless she wanted them to be. The dragon was very sympathetic towards Max about her flock, but was just as puzzled as to why she had live two lives. The dragon had then quickly adopted the name of wing-sister for the teen, and Max too had started using the name for the dragon. In return, the dragon had told her of why she had marked both Max and Eragon, and said that she had just felt compelled to mark Max. She had told Max that the mark gave her the ability to control magic, though to a slight lesser extent then Eragon, and that it was easier for her and Max to communicate with each other now. Max had taken the gift gladly, though she had determined not to use magic until she got her hands on a proper instructor – Alagaesia Max said magic was dangerous, after all.

The dragon was also surprised that a 'two-legs' such as herself could haul a deer, both her and Eragon's packs, Eragon himself and the dragon, as well as the egg's remnants to hide the evidence, for the five hours they had walked. Max had answered she had Earth Max's fitness and superior strength, and this was quite easy. The teen had been walking through the night, keen to make it back before the frost set in, and, as dawn set in, she and the dragon decided it was time to stop. They were only about half a league form the edge of the forest now, and Max had decided now was the time for Eragon to wake up and for them together to create a shelter for the dragon – until they left for the Varden (not that Eragon would know that). They could not leave immediately, as her and Eragon still had to pump Brom for information, and the dragon had requested them to ask the old man for dragon names so she could be named. And with that, she carried the cold water from a nearby stream in the dragon's egg and poured it over Eragon's face. She knew it was a dangerous thing to do in the late autumn, but kicking him and slapping him hadn't worked so...

Eragon spluttered, and shoot upwards. "Whadda miss?"

Max smirked at him, before grabbing his hand and hauling him to his feet. "Oh, nothing much. I've just hauled you, the deer and both our packs for two days-" Max and the dragon had decided to lengthen the time spent walking so it would not seem so implausible the amount of distance she had covered. "- before I got tired and decided to knock you out of your damsel-in-distress faint that you did. I've spent the time the time talking to your dragon and we decided together she should stay here till we come and collect her." Max snickered at her best friends dumb-founded expression, and waited for him to regain his thoughts. "Hang on. So, the stone that appeared was actually an egg, which hatched for me, where upon this dragon comes out, making me a- a –a a _dragon rider_?"  
_Yep, pretty much. _Max had to smirk at Eragon's jump as the dragon 'spoke' to him through their mind link. He looked around wildly for the culprit, and finally his eyes rested on my new friend. _Hello, Eragon. _ Max watched him closely, and saw his eyes narrow up in concentration. _Hello, dragon? _The dragon jumped up and scrambled towards Eragon, before, with the help of her madly flapping wings, she jumped onto his shoulder. _Yes. _She was obviously very excited to get to finally talk to her Rider, and Max absentmindedly went around gathering sturdy branches and sticks to use in building the she-dragon's shelter as she happily explained the situation to Eragon (barring her background and their destination).

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"Katrina!" Max leapt after her, her bow rattling on her back. "How are you?" She and the dragon had finally persuaded Eragon that, to keep themselves and the villagers safe, they needed to leave Carvahall before they found out about his dragon. Max wasn't sure he would have agreed to it, but he and the dragon had bonded exceedingly quickly, and he definitely didn't want her in danger now. Eragon had wanted to come down to the village with her, but, after collecting her deer which she had shot earlier, she had said that she would take down the message he was meant to give to Katrina from Roran. He had thanked profusely her, and quickly strode back to the visible farm house, often looking back over his shoulder towards the direction Max knew the dragon to be. "How are you doing?" Katrina was a young woman around two years older than Max, with long, copper hair and fair skin. She was very attractive, but Max liked her because, whilst she did not have the same urge for adventure as Max had, Max was convinced she was a very strong woman and if she wanted too, she could handle a weapon and herself as well as most men – which, unfortunately, was not something which could be said for most women. Katrina was a brilliant friend of Max's, and constantly rescued her from her mother's wrath when Sophia gave something to Max to mend. Needless to say, Max was hopeless at sewing, and Katrina would sew it up for her in return for some 'decorations' Max would pick up in the Spine. These decorations were often flowers, though Max had found some very pretty stones which she knew Katrina would enjoy.

"I'm well Max. Thanks. You caught a fine deer out hunting." Max turned around, having only just remembered the deer attached around her body. With all the excitement, she had had no time to skin it and stow it into her pack, and had decided to just lug the whole body down. "Thanks, Kat," Katrina smiled, as she always did when Max called her her nickname, "So, Roran told Eragon who told me to tell you that Roran says he'll come into town as soon as the merchants arrive and that he will see you then. Oh, and she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seem and that he thinks of nothing else. Which I personally think is quite offensive to me, but I guess no one will ever love me!" Max sighed dramatically, before grinning at the identical grin on Katrina's face as she mentioned Roran. Roran and Katrina had a secret relationship – well, secret as in everyone in the town knew, bar Katrina's horrible father, Sloan. Sloan was the evil butcher of this town, and he absolutely despised not only Max (he thought her to be a terrible influence on Katrina – after all, she did wear tunics and leggings, and went hunting – gasp!) Eragon and Roran – he had always treated them as if they were something 'unclean' – but also just about the whole town. In fact, Max was pretty sure that the only person he had ever liked was his daughter, Katrina.

"Oh, don't you worry Max, you're beautiful – no, you really are! I heard from Elain that Sophia already has suitors lined up for you – you might want to make a run for it as soon as possible!" Katrina's tinkling laugh sounded through the square, as it was common knowledge that Max did _not _want to get married until she was at least 25, and that she _definitely _did not want to be a normal wife – i.e. a house wife. What Katrina didn't know, though, was that Max would really be running away. Even if Eragon would not go with her (which he would) as soon as Max got even a whiff of her marriage she would be running away. She just wasn't ready to sacrifice her life like that. She shuddered at the thought. _Ughh. _"Well, thanks for the message, Max. And don't worry, you can wriggle your way out of anything – I'm sure that includes marriage."

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**AN: **Thanks for reading! Review please - I need proof someone is enjoying this! If anyone is... :(


	4. Chapter 3: Brom's Secrets

**AN: **Thanks so much for the review, _live laugh play music. _It means a lot for someone to review my story! Also, it's great that I have some favourites and followers, so thank you so much guys!

This, again, is a relatively fillery chapter, but I promise in a chapter or two they will be going on a run after the raa'zac again, or watevs' their called.

Sorry for the shortness and many page breaks, but this one didn' flow right... Thought I'd just put it out there/

Questions: do you want max to be a dragon rider? And do you want Garrow to die? (There has to be some reason as to why they go though – so someone close is gonna have to die). And when do you want the flock to turn up, if ever? I was thinking they would only turn up after the evil dude is dead, but you tell me.

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**The One of Two Lives**

**Chapter 4: Brom's Secrets**

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Max looked down her leggings happily, eyeing the trampled down snow in front of her. It was a clear sign that the traders had come, and she had decided that she would go up ahead and warn Eragon and Garrow that they had come this year. After all, she knew most of Carvahall depended on the traders – including the farmers – and she knew they would be losing hope that the traders would come at all. So, here she was looking happily down at the tracks whilst pondering what she would do today with Eragon. Smiling happily, she quickly turned in a 360 degrees circle, before whipping out her wings from carefully arranged slits in her many-folds tunic. Sprinting forward, she flapped her hard muscles quickly and rose in the air. She called to the dragon through her mind, and headed towards the Spine, a nice updraft letting her drift towards it with ease. She decided to use the spare time to refine her plan.

The dragon had quickly become big enough to fly in the past week or so (in fact, the not-quite-flame-breathing creature was now the size of a small cow) and Max had, ever so kindly, been giving the creature flying lessons. After all, the dragon only wanted to learn from the best. It was now a favourite hobby of theirs to go flying together, and though the dragon's wings captured more air, Max had her super-speed to consider. In the end, it was inevitable that the dragon would indeed be better then flying then Maximum – but then again, Max _was _a human, and humans weren't, well, _meant _to be in the air. During this time, they had together come up with a steadfast plan on what to do in the coming years.

It had gone without saying that the King needed to go. Tyranny was not allowed in Max's mindset, and the dragon (whom had demanded Max and Eragon get some suitable names for her to pick soon) definitely would not allow Galbatorix to control her and her rider's movements at all. It had taken a while, though, to convince the creature that the Varden was really the only option. The Varden had the support of both the elves and the dwarfs, and the only other race was the Urgals – who had last been known to be in league with the Empire. And, of course, they could not defy the King and expect to win on their own. So, that was decided. They would defy the King, and join the Varden. However, when the creature had asked where the Varden was, Max was stuck. She had explained her theory about Du WeldenVarden or the Beors, and had snuck a surprisingly detailed map from Brom's home, showing the dragon where each area was. They had decided they would head to Surda – a place which too, though not actively, defied the Empire. They had decided that if anyone knew where the Varden was, it would be someone there. The two together had put much thought into it, before deciding they would follow the Ninor River down towards Gil'ead. There, they would listen out for any news and gather more supplies, before heading west towards Woadark Lake. They would go West of Leona Lake and miss out Dras-Leona, near Belatona, Feinster and then finally crossing through into Surda. The path after that was unclear, but Max and the dragon were glad they had at least the next few months sorted out.

She smiled as she saw the great sapphire-blue dragon soaring towards her. Exuberantly reaching forward with her mind-link, she reached out to the vast consciousness.

_Should we go see Eragon, then?_

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Max smirked as Eragon looked longingly over at the blue dot now fast disappearing over the skyline. The dragon and she had gotten to Eragon's farm without delay, and, after the dragon had hid out of view, she had told Garrow the news. Thanking her profusely, he had immediately started to load his crops and had advised Eragon to walk Max back. She was slightly angered at this – she didn't need walking back! – but had decided its benefits outweighed the offensive words. And, as soon as she and Eragon were out of sight of Roran and his uncle, they had hurried to the edge of the Spine where they would not be seen by any passing traveller and called the dragon out of her hiding place. She had immediately joined them, and they had happily spent the last hour or so chatting with each other, and informing Eragon's dragon of the outside world. Only recently had they been within a half-mile of the village, and Eragon had reluctantly sent their companion away, promising to gather some suitable names for her before the night was out. And now, they broke out of the packed forest and strode into the forest, their choice of route raising many an eyebrow. Max did her best – which was pretty good – at ignoring it, and she proceeded to follow Eragon into the centre of the square, where they decided to meet again before the end of the day. Watching Eragon scamper through the busy-for-Carvahall lanes, looking for his uncle and cousin, made Max smile gently. He reminded her so much of Iggy sometimes. Frowning once more, she shook the thought off, before looking round the people. It was time to find Brom.

* * *

Max cleared her expression as she saw Brom's face peek through the door to see who was knocking on it. The old man straightened when he saw her, and, clearing his thought, beckoned her inside. She boldly stepped over the porch, and sent an observing glance round the house before her. Her suspicion grew as her sharp eyes picked out many details not immediately obvious to a normal human's naked eye. It was quite obvious, really. A skilfully crafted pen lay atop a pile of papers. The delicate swirl to it, and the trees dancing round the outside made Max think of the elves, and she saw a paper weight and a bowl, full of vegetables, with the same twirling pattern. There were several braziers mounted on the walls, and, if you looked closely, you could see the carefully intertwined metals which showed craftsmanship of the highest level. It was obviously not your ordinary lamp, and Max wondered yet again how far Brom the seemingly innocent story teller had travelled before settling down. She knew he had only arrived here 15 years ago, which meant he had at least 35 years of living somewhere else. Max had long ago guessed that he must have been many places because of the clarity of his stories, but she now she wondered how well. These ornaments came from places far away...

Her musing was interrupted by the coarse cough of Brom, who looked at her expectantly. She, too, cleared her throat. "Sorry to interrupt you on whatever you were doing," She smirked at him as he chuckled, "but I overheard some guy rambling on about what he was going to do that day. Apparently you're going to go and tell about the dragons?" She waited for the expected nod, a grin breaking out on her face as his wrinkled cheeks lifted in a bleary smile. "Well, no one 'cept you knows anything about them, and I'm pretty sure that if they did they wouldn't dare say anything. I was just wondering if you knew anything about them? Like," She continued, when she saw his raised eyebrow on her vague question, "What kind of size did they grow too? And how did their magic affect the Riders?"She took the seat Brom motioned her too, stepping over various scrolls as she did so. Half listening to the information packed answer the old man was giving her, she casually swept her mind through the room. Immediately, she brushed an impregnable wall of a light blue scale, and she froze herself to stop a gasp whistling through her clenched teeth. She knew what that was - a dragon's scale. Earth-Max's help echoed through her mind.

_Angel could read minds and you couldn't stop her whatever. It was different from what we can do, and maybe if we adapt our method enough we will be able to find out what is behind that suspiciously well-guarded mind. Instead of using a sharp dagger to dig through the wall, she used to spread her thoughts so spread out that they filtered through the barriers like spores through the air. Try it._

Alagaesia-Max thanked the other side of her consciousness, before attempting to do what she had been told. It was a difficult and freakish experience, her every thoughts spreading to fill the whole room. It was difficult to control, and she sensed that Angel had been able to do this much better then she was at the moment, but it was a start. She stiffened as she brushed against the wall that was Brom, and, sweeping her morals off to the side, relaxed as she glided into the mind. Concentrating her thoughts once again the other side of the barrier, she saw the remnants of a mind whose memories were dumped, untidily but organized, in various piles. Her thought-self ran to the last pile, and catching her thought-breath, dived in.

* * *

_You know, _Earth-Max thought, _we have a super cool power now. Angel could only view your current thoughts, not look into your memories, and magic-people have to be able to get through barriers. We can do both now! I just wonder if we will ever be able to control people to the ability of Angel._

Alagaesia-Max briefly pondered this, before turning back to the more pressing matters. So, Brom was a Dragon Rider now, was he? And Eragon's father, founder of the Varden and Elf Friend. Not to mention bane of the Forsworn and killer of Morzan – and one of the only Rider's who had not gone completely insane after their dragon was killed. She felt a surge of respect fill her emotions, coming from both sides of her mind, and opened her mouth, stopping Brom mid-explanation. She was sure blue-scales would accept and support her decision.

"So, Brom, the real reason I'm here today is to talk about your son. Is it safe to talk?"

* * *

**AN: **Thanks for reading! And question: does anyone know what Brom said to Eragon before he died? You know, the mysterious seven words?


	5. Chapter 4: Strike of the Ra'zac

**AN: **So, it's been roughly a month since I last updated – sorry. That's probably whats gonna happen every update though. I have however spent the time mapping out the main plot of this story, and have decided that the flock won't come in till the end, but will be one of the main characters in the sequel – which will definitely happen. Garrow is gonna have to die, sorry, but I was thinking instead of Katrina being captured by the Ra'zac maybe Roran should. Also, Max is not going to be a dragon rider, though she is going to get very close to Saphira. So yeh.

**Ancient Language Translations (ANL):**

theyna böllr = rough translation, 'silent ball' (the surrounding area is protected from eavesdroppers)

"speak"

_mind speak_

_"speak aloud and in mind"_

* * *

**The One of Two Lives**

**Chapter 4 – Strike of the Ra'Zac**

* * *

_"So, Brom, the real reason I'm here today is to talk about your son. Is it safe to talk?"_

* * *

Brom's eyes widened minimally as he took in Max's words. Turning, he busied himself with the fire, but Max still caught two muttered almost silent words. "Theyna böllr." He mumbled, before turning to face Max again. "I do not know what you talk of, Ride. I have never started a family, as I have not had any inclination to. Why would you believe that I would?"

Earth Max sighed. Sticky old git. "Cut the crap, old man." The old man in question looked puzzled by the choice of words, but she ploughed on. "Eragon is your son, I know. So, why don't we skip all the 'I don't have a son, yes you bloody do' nonsense, and just get to what I need to talk about." Looking at the man for any sign of ascent, she smirked at a minute nod. "Right, brilliant! I would make you swear in your ancient language thing," She pointedly ignored his gasp, "but I personally don't know a word of it – that'll have to change – and I'm pretty sure you're clever enough to not repeat what I'm saying to anyone anyway." Max watched as Brom seemed to sigh in relief, before smirking once more at the teen girl. "So, let's cut to the chase. Your son is a dragon rider. "

* * *

"Mission success." Max muttered to Eragon as she passed him in the crowded tracks of Carvahall. "Got names, he doesn't suspect a thing, and gathered some basic info for our dragon back home detailing the fall of the Riders and stuff." Eragon smiled good-naturedly at Max, and mumbled to her, "Meet in the clearing after Brom's story? We can decide on her name then." Max patted his head. "Eager, are we? Sure. You go onto the storyteller, I just need to do something first."

They nodded at each other, before Eragon headed off to the town square and Max, furtively glancing behind her, headed in the direction of the Spine. There was no way she was going to sit and listen to Brom speak about dragons when she could go flying with an actual one. She had done her info gathering, now it was Eragon's time. Shading her eyes from the setting sun, she glimpsed a blue dot on the horizon coming towards her. Stretching her aching back, her tawny wings snapping out behind her, she took a running jump into the windy air and took a few experimental swoops to steady herself. Grinning, she gradually sped up her wings, until they were a blur even to her hawk eyes. It was only two minutes till she reached the cerulean dragon – the combined pace of the two was phenomenal – and shouted out, in both her mind and head, _"Wing-sister! I have some interesting news!" _

The dragon did not seem to comprehend her words, however, and just continued to barrel into Max. She swore loudly, just dodging out the way (what do ya' know, it seemed dodging flyboy bullets mid-air did help sometimes) before latching onto the back of Eragon's dragon. She stretched out her mind link, to only find the rock hard surface of blind terror keeping her out of the creature. Swallowing nervously from atop the dragon's back, she thinned out her consciousness to slowly enter her mind. It was far trickier then it had been with Brom – perhaps because they were moving? – but eventually she managed to recollect her thoughts inside the sapphire dragons mind. Readying herself, she yelled until her throat was hoarse and her mind aching – _"OI!"_.

This was so sudden and unexpected that the dragon suddenly stopped, and even fell a few feet before she pulled her wings back out.

_What?_ An irritated voice sought out her mind, annoyance briefly overwhelming terror. Max snorted, before clearing her head, determined to ask the questions needed before the dragon remembered her fear.

_Can you tell me what was so utterly terrifying that you, the most fearsome beast in all of Alagaesia, was running from it?_

A shot of anger echoed through the dragon, before she replied, her fear sinking to the back of her mind. _Three people were approaching the farm, and I was going to see who they were. I got close enough so that I could see they were all male, before an instinctual feeling of terror rose up in me. _

The big dragon had suddenly seemed to remember what she was running from, and the fear rose once again, taking control of her. Max squished it down, her voice echoing around the stunning creatures brain. _Hey, don't worry. Eragon's at the campfire listening to old Brom's stories, and I am obviously with you. There's no one at the farm ex -. Shit! Roran and Garrow went back early – they're probably there now! Look dragon, get Eragon and meet at the clearing. I'll go back to the farm and get Roran and Garrow, take them to the village and then come and get you. If I don't come back before midnight, be worried. _

And with no further warning, she fanned out her wings, catching the air and blowing her off the back of the dragon. _Be safe! _The dragon called, before swooping down to where she could collect Eragon with no worries. Max briefly smiled in her direction, before shaking her head and powering towards the farm. Oh, they better be fine. If they weren't, those creatures were gonna pay!

* * *

She shrieked as she saw the farm. It was a burning hollowed out structure of wooden beams, the walls collapsed on the surrounding earth. The debris had gotten blown by the wind miles around, and as she watched yet another beam shuddered and crumbled to the ground. Diving towards the ground, she bounced onto the earth and sprinted to the structure. Searching through the wreckage she sighed in relief as the tuft of brown hair fluttered into view. Heaving the beam off the man, she gulped at the sight of the dead body of one Garrow. Dragging his body out, her eyes wracked his crumpled form, taking in the leg twisted at an unnatural angle, the major loss of hair (most of it had been burnt off), and the terrible disfiguring burns, blistering his body red. She sighed in sorrow, before continuing to search around.

She had gathered Eragon's bow and his quiver before she found Roran's body in the once-kitchen. Looking him over, she distinguished that he was, at least, alive, and smiled slightly. Deciding she had got all she came for, she gathered the items and Roran's unconscious body. Looking over at Garrow, she sighed reluctantly. Max knew that if she took him down, firstly, it would be suspicious that she had managed to get all the way down in such a short time with not one but two people – even more suspicious then it did at the moment – and, secondly, it would take precious hours away from Roran's time left. She decided he was the priority, and the villagers would definitely send someone to get the body anyway. Nodding to herself, she flung Roran's body over her shoulder, the bow and arrows strapped onto her back, and set off at a jog towards the path leading down the mountainside (it would damage Roran too much to set off into the air – the uneven beat would make him loose even more blood then already).

She never noticed the three figures blending into the trees whom had been attracted back to the farm at the sound of her shriek.

* * *

**AN: **Done! Oh yeah, I would like to know – Max/Murtagh or Max/Fang? If Max/Fang then it would only come in during the sequel, seeing as it will only be then that the flock will be there. Also, I'm guessing you guys want Eragon/Arya, right? And Saphira/Firnen?


End file.
